Living in Shadows
by orangemonster33
Summary: Harry grew up loved and protected by his parents and sister Scarlet. However, life isn't easy trying to live up to his Dad's legacy and keeping an eye on his reckless little sister at the same time. To make matters worse a new American student arrives, joining Harry and his friends in their sixth year. Harry finds losing himself in stormy grey eyes.


Chapter 1

Lily Potter stared up at the cloaked figure above her, his cold eyes piercing her soul. She knew her end had come but she was not willing to give up Harry's. With tears in her eyes she stood in front of the cot in which her infant son lay, and bravely stared at the figure. The last thing she saw that night was a figure bursting through the door. A flash of green light. Nothing.

One week prior

Peter stared in stunned silence as the Dark Lord laid out his plan to murder his best friend. The whole circle was present with men and women covering their faces with ugly masks. When he had felt the familiar shooting pain of the dark mark burning on his left arm, he knew this was it. What had he done? He was scared but he didn't know whether for his friends or for himself. His hands were shaking, and cold sweat was running down his forehead.

"Wormtail", Voldemort's cold voice addressed the stout man with cruel emphasis on the name his friends had given him. "Any objections to these plans? After all you are the hero of the hour!" Wormtail visibly nervous at being called upon, hesitated. He looked up at the figure in front of him. The face distorted and no longer recognisably human with no hint of kindness daring to grace his features. Peter's mind was flashing with memories of happiness and faces that had brought him such joy over the years. No. This was not the time. He must show no weakness. He is no good to James and Lily dead. He saw a dangerous flicker in his Lord's eyes and knew that he must appear vigilant. He hastily replied, stumbling over his words, "Not at all my Lord, it's perfect, you are always perfect." Voldemort leaned back in his oaken throne scrutinizing the pathetic man in front of him. Suddenly a heartless grin appeared on the pale face and he hissed, "Very well then, I shall call upon you in a week's time and it shall be finished."

As the rest of the death-eaters rushed to leave the hostile atmosphere of the meeting room, Peter felt a solitary tear run down his cheek, as he walked slowly and numbly away from the man who was about to tear his only sources of happiness from him. He felt a brushing on his robes and looked up to see Severus Snape all but run past, staring only at the ground. Confused, he made his way out, not noticing the small piece of parchment now resting in his right pocket.

Thoughts were dancing around Wormtail's mind. He knew everything. He knew how to stop it. He should tell Dumbledore. No, he can't tell Dumbledore, he can't tell anyone that he betrayed his friends, he can't! Peter stood abruptly, tears threatening to pour down his cheeks. The piece of parchment he had been studying fell from his lap. It detailed the downfall to the Dark Lord, and Peter was now responsible for exacting it. He shook his head. No, he can't do this. This task is too huge for one man in a week! It's not possible. Finding seven horcruxes, it's insane! He reached down and picked up the parchment, scanning its contents for anything that might help him. Then right at the bottom, in what was unmistakably Snape's cursive script, 'Find Regulus'. Without a second thought he ran.

Peter stood breathless on the pavement of Grimmauld Place as the house before him placed itself together, having slid out of its hiding place between 11 and 13. With a gasp he caught his breath. Regulus was Sirius' younger brother and although Peter had frequented the Black household due to his friendship with Sirius, he had normally done it under the cover of dark, or in secret. So it was safe to say the Marauders had never really had much interaction with Walburga and Orion Black, or indeed their youngest son. Thinking about it Peter realized he had never spoken to Regulus at meetings either. The young man always looked downcast and misplaced amongst the death-eaters. From the little bits Sirius shared with his friends, he knew that Sirius used to have a strong relationship with his brother until he got sorted into Gryffindor, but unlike Sirius, Regulus could never bear to be a disappointment to the family. Perhaps that was why he joined up in the first place. Sirius always said there was still some good in his little brother, and Peter prayed to whatever was up there that his friend was right.  
No lights shone through the black abysses that were the windows of Sirius' childhood home and Peter started to wonder whether anyone was even at the Black's residence. He nervously shifted from side to side glancing at the old wooden front door. Was he meant to knock? Had Regulus already seen him? Just as he was thinking to maybe just use the doorbell, a dark figure crept out of it and moved towards the stout man. However, he did not stop to exchange greetings but grabbed Peter by the arm and dragged him away from the scene.  
"We cannot talk here", he whispered looking for any signs of followers over his shoulder, "I can't be seen with you in times like this!" Peter who had been about to protest stayed quiet. The man was right. It wasn't safe, it was never safe.  
When they reached a dark alleyway the younger of the two men suddenly stopped and let go of Peter's arm abruptly. Without further explanation he started moving around them in a circle, mumbling complicated spells and incarnations and carrying out complex movements. With a last glance to the end of the road he finally turned to Peter and examined him closely, still trying to figure out if he could trust this pathetic man.  
"Severus said you were trustworthy", Regulus finally broke the silence, "Yet I do not know whether I should trust this judgement"  
Peter gulped. He was prepared for this moment. "Am I right that you are aware of the Dark Lord's plans towards the Potters?" he said with a shaky voice. Regulus only nodded. "You don't understand though. They are all I have. My friends, no, my family. They are…. They are…" he could not finish the sentence with tears threatening to fall from his eyes.  
Regulus looked at the sight disgustedly. "You are right" he finally replied "I do not understand. My family consists of hating, bloodthirsty death-eaters and a brother that does not care about his own flesh in the slightest. I do not understand at all."  
Peter was taken aback by the outburst of the suddenly so sad looking boy. He knew this person since he was 12 years old but never even thought about getting to know him. He knew nothing about Sirius' little brother but he did know that Regulus was wrong. Sirius did care and so did Regulus and he also knew that this would be crucial for what he was going to do now.  
"Everyone thinks Sirius is the secret keeper of the Potter's" he started with a thin voice not daring to look into his eyes "But we both know this is not the case". Regulus looked at Peter apprehensively not yet knowing what he was getting at.  
The small man licked his lips and continued "However, if their secret had been revealed and something was going to happen to them, who do you think would be blamed?"  
Regulus stumbled back in realization feeling as if he Peters words had struck him deep in his soul. He clenched his teeth in utter anger. "What do you want?" he hissed.

Peter left the alleyway in distress, feeling as if someone punched him in the face. He knew he had revealed the worst of himself, the side his friends have helped to hide for so long. It was time to redeem himself. It was time to grow up. He glanced at the torn and crude map that Regulus had thrust into his sweaty palm before disapparating into the darkness. The task seemed more possible with this. He knew where the horcruxes were. It was a start. He still couldn't do this alone. He had one last resort. The person he had been the most hesitant to face. Dumbledore.

Peter nervously sat in the round office, his feet still barely touching the ground from the high seat. His eyes were shifting from side to side not daring too look into this ice-blue gaze opposite of him. The old man waited patiently for him to start, examining him like an interesting object he hadn't quite figured out yet.  
Peter took a deep breath. He recited in his mind what he had planned to tell him, slowly opened his mouth and burst out into tears and heavy sobs. Dumbledore, as if expecting this from the beginning, drew a handkerchief from thin air and finally spoke to the pathetic man in from of him.  
"Peter, it doesn't matter what has happened in the past and which choices you have made, it only matters what path you choose to follow and whether you let your life to be ruled by yourself or others." Peter responded with a last tiny sob and carefully asked, "You know, Professor?"  
Dumbledore gave him a strict look, "I have an idea, now tell me what you did".

The two so different men stood together in front of an old cottage. This was the last one. Peter who had acquired all the information about the horcruxes from Regulus clenched the piece of paper to his heart with the last bits on the ring that had to be found. He was well aware that Regulus knew far too much, his house elf had been appointed by the Dark Lord for most of the work on hiding the items and he had acquired other information from his aunt Bellatrix. Regulus in return was aware that the Dark Lord knew too, and it was only a matter of time until he would vanish as well. They both knew he was doomed.  
Dumbledore led the way, slowly opening the door to the cottage. It creaked horribly as if warning the intruders to leave.  
The dust piled ever faster onto the irregularly placed furniture. So much so that it looked as though it belonged in a muggle horror movie. Even though Peter could not recognise these signs of warning, his body shivered at the harsh atmosphere. Dumbledore pressed on seemingly unaffected by the battered appearance of the building before him. The look of strange calm on his face comforted Peter and the strong radiating power gave him a feeling of reassurance. Last one.

Peter started frantically searching through the furnishings in the derelict house, darting from room to room nervously. His movements proving surprisingly swift for such a stocky man, he nearly fell over Dumbledore emerging from the living room with closed eyes and palms outstretched. Suddenly Dumbledore's eyes snapped open. In a casual tone, as if commenting on the weather, said "Would you mind stepping to your left please, you are right on top of a horcrux." Peter's eyes widened and with a high pitched squeak jumped out of the way, knocking over a horrid mustard yellow vase and creating a startling crash. Dumbledore did not react to this and retaining his calm demeanour knelt down beside Peter who had fallen unceremoniously onto the ground. Dumbledore raised his wand and pointed it dramatically at the floor. Peter gasped and waited in growing anticipation for what was about to happen. Nothing. Dumbledore chuckled to himself and Peter only grew more confused. "Really Tom?" he muttered under his breath. "Muggle means are that belittling for you?" He simply reached down and lifted up the floorboard revealing a small, ordinary box. With another surprisingly swift movement for such an old man he opened the lid. Both men were now bending over the edge of the floor, looking at the austere ring lying on the bottom of the box. A dark presence suddenly filled the small room drawing all their attention to the seemingly trivial object. Dumbledore stretched out his hand as if in a trance all his thoughts circling around possessing the ring and reversing his sister's untimely demise. Dead silence was reigning over them as his pale hand could almost feel the cool metal around his finger. Suddenly a hand closed around the black ring and with a confused look in his eyes Peter collapsed

The front door was thrown open and Dumbledore emerged with an unfamiliar fierce look on his face. In a determined manner he strode forth, levitating a whimpering Peter behind him and threw down the cursed ring in a mangled heap. In an instant he had disapparated only leaving a whirlwind of dust in his wake.

Meanwhile far away in the little town of Godric's Hollow Lily was huddled in a dark corner clutching her infant son to her chest a look of pure terror in her face as her husband was slowly creeping towards the source of the disturbance they had encountered a minute ago. They were fully aware that this might be their end. With a sole tear running down her face she quickly drew out her wand casting a silver doe in the air. All her hopes now lay on Sirius. She knew he would never get there in time to save her but maybe she could stall enough to save Harry.

James crouched behind the sofa, concealed from the sight of the door. He could hear his heart beating out of his chest and was convinced that his breaths could be heard from down the street. The door creaked open and the dark presence seeped into the house, inspiring even more fear in James. The pale face appeared in the mirror opposite James and locked eyes with the inhuman stare of the blood red eyes. He forgot how to breathe. His wand felt heavy in his hand as he prepared to defend his family. Suddenly to the surprise of both himself and the ruthless killer before him, he leapt out of his hiding place, with a roar that would have made Godric Gryffindor proud, and with his quidditch reflexes immediately jumped out of the way of the green killing curse that was aimed directly at him. The curse whizzed past his ears narrowly avoiding his charming sideburns, and promptly hit the shelf above him, causing the ugly vase given to him by his mother in law to smash over his head. With a last surprised look on his face, he slumped down into unconsciousness. Without as much as a second glance to the defeated man on the floor, Voldemort proceeded upstairs towards the infant, who was to be his next target.

Wormtail was forced into consciousness as the gut-wrenching pull of apparition came upon him, and he was immediately made aware of the blazing pain in his hand. There was no time for him to be selfish however, as he found himself in front of the Potter's house with Dumbledore, as a loud roar erupted from inside. Both men shared a look of fear, but Peter's look was almost scary in its determination. Without thinking Peter barrelled down the path and through the busted door. He stopped in his tracks however, when he saw James in a crumpled heap in the corner, his head bleeding heavily. Dumbledore saw the look of determination change to one of terror, and then to realisation as screams were heard upstairs. With complete disregard for Dumbledore's protests, Peter ran.

Lily had heard the dramatic war-cries of her husband and the crashing, and was now more terrified than ever by the slow steps making their way up the stairs. She gripped her wand tightly and gently laid her son into his cot, wiping off the tears that had dribbled from her eyes onto his baby-skin. Collecting her last strength she stood in determination, pointing her wand towards the locked door. Lily looked in terror as the door handle slowly turned as if of its own accord. The wooden door cracked open and a hooded figure dressed in a complete black cloak entered the infant's room. Suddenly the temperature dropped by several degrees and Lily shivered at the sight of the Dark Lord giving her a sinister sneer. With all of her remaining Gryffindor bravery she managed to speak and was amazed at how little her voice was shaking, "If you only look at Harry I will make your life hell. If you harm a single hair on his head I will scratch your dirty red eyes out." Voldemort only laughed emptily at her attempt to threaten him and with his voice devoid of emotion drawled his retort, "Move out of my way you stupid mudblood, I will kill him with or without spilling your dirty blood." Lily only spat at his feet with disgust. A rare look of pure rage distorted his face, and as he raised his wand to strike her down, Peter burst through the open door, tackling a shocked Voldemort to the ground and knocking Lily over in the process. A blinding green light filled the room and Voldemort pushed Peter's lifeless body off of him. He was now angrier than ever. The entire rage of Voldemort was turned towards the tiny child. With triumph glittering in his eyes, the Dark Lord sent the Killing Curse towards the defenceless baby. The room seemed to explode as Voldemort was sent flying backwards, killed by his own curse. The Dark Lord fell victim to the very thing he lacked. Love.


End file.
